


Breath Marks

by sambethe



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Captain Swan Secret Santa 2016, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-26
Updated: 2016-12-26
Packaged: 2018-09-12 05:25:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9057454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sambethe/pseuds/sambethe
Summary: Life is lived in the pauses.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



It’s a Wednesday when Killian’s supposed to move in with her. It should be an ordinary day. Or as ordinary as any day can be when it begins with a father making his adult daughter a legion’s worth of pancakes.

(The thought of it pulls at her heart in a way that still surprises her. Even after everything.)

But this is Storybrooke, where the Dark One, an Evil Queen, and a Mr. Hyde are residents, and Emma’s luck has never been that good.

*

Emma’s home by the time the sun sets. But where she should be with Killian, unpacking boxes and figuring out where to put their contents while fighting over the slice of pizza with the biggest air bubble on the crust, she’s alone. It once would have brought her comfort, just her and a takeout box still half full of cold cashew chicken, but here and now the quiet is almost oppressive.

Her phone’s chirping ring is deafening but welcome when it comes, even as she wonders what bit of bad news can’t wait until morning.

(When she grabs it and finds Killian’s name on the screen her heart again feels full.)

He greets her with his usual “Hello, love.”

She can hear the smile in his voice, and her answering one comes even though she knows he can’t see it. “Killian.”

“My apologies for not being there tonight. You know how much -”

“You don’t have to apologize. Belle needs you.” She bites back a sigh, knowing it’s the truth but still wanting all the same. “Moving can wait one more night.”

“True. However, I have a proposition for you.”

Emma raises her eyebrow in imitation of the waggle he’d sure be giving if she were standing in front of him.

“Belle says you should join us, to tell you we can make it a slumber party. Whatever the blazes that might be.” She can hear Belle’s laughter in the background.

“Seriously?”

“Of course.”

*

She digs out one of her favorite pair of pajamas, a plaid set of soft greys and purples that she likes lounging in, and changes before setting out for the docks. She has the presence of mind to pack a change of clothes in case any of Storybrooke’s usual culprits cause her to regret her choice.

When she steps aboard the Jolly Roger, Killian’s confused expression at her attire is worth any potential embarrassment that would come from a run in with a dwarf. Emma tosses a thermos in his direction. “That’s for Belle. Ours is here.” She lifts a second, larger one, filled with hot chocolate laced with rum and cinnamon liqueur.

He looks her up and down. “And the pants?”

“You said it was a slumber party.”

Killian steps towards her, threading the looped thermos lid through his hook and moving his freed hand to her hip. “This is what you wear to sleep?” He slips a finger below the waistband, teasing at the skin he finds.

She sways into him. “When there’s mixed company, yes.” She bites her lip at the hum Killian gives at her response.

“I look forward to discovering your many bedroom-related sartorial choices.”

She laughs and takes a step back. “I bet you do.”

*

The three of them stay up far too late that night. Emma and Belle laugh over old photos of Jason Isaacs as Captain Hook while musing as to what Killian might look like in red velvet, much to his very obvious irritation.

“Those cuffs are ridiculous!” He tries grabbing for the phone but Belle pulls it out of his reach as Emma takes hold of his wrist. “You’d never manage to properly wield a sword –”

“He does look good in red,” Emma offers, ignoring his objections and a thrown pillow as Belle doubles over in laughter.

*

The next morning, when Killian carries just one trunk to her car, Emma wonders at how it is, in all the universes, despite everything, they always fit.

(And she wonders too at what might be tucked inside, what items he’s treasured enough to carry through realms and across oceans. And she warms because she knows, with time, each will be revealed.)

She has a fleeting thought to stop at Granny’s for some breakfast when she remembers the amount of pancakes stuffed in Ziploc bags in her – _their_ – fridge, and the smile that comes unbidden is one that spreads from ear to ear.

“What’s got you smiling, love?” Killian asks as he stuffs the trunk in the back seat.

“Nothing.” She slides in as Killian settles in the passenger seat. “Let’s go home.” 

*

It should be hard, sharing space with someone after all this time. And it is, but it also isn’t.

Killian gets exasperated by the way she and Henry both tend to leave things strewn in their wake. Neither of them are truly messy, but there are socks that don’t quite make it to the hamper and wet towels on the bathroom floor. But, then again, a suspect amount of mackerel has taken up occupancy in the fridge, so Emma doesn’t think he has room to judge.

And it is hard to stay angry, or even frustrated, when there are fleeting touches as they move past one another in the kitchen When nights are spent curled into the couch, and each other. When she can listen to him plan all the things he’d like to do with the back garden.

It’s that last that truly tugs at her. Killian has this absolute certainty in her - in them - and it’s almost overwhelming in its steadfastness. And while she may have trouble accepting it when her hands shake and her magic falters, tucked inside these four walls, together, she finds it easy to believe in a future beyond the vision that rattles around her mind.

*

It’s seeing him in the world wrought by the Evil Queen’s wish that solidifies it in her mind’s eye. Killian’s hair is mostly grey and his eyes are crinkled even before his smile starts. He’s still impossibly - dashingly - handsome, and she can tell he’s charmed by her despite himself.

When she returns home, again, Gideon’s waiting along with the Black Fairy, replacing the Evil Queen and Mr. Hyde. New faces, same story for Emma. She has a moment to roll her eyes at Storybrooke’s efficiency in attracting evil before Killian’s there - _her Killian_ \- and they stand together to fight.

“Remind me, when this is done, that I have a question for you,” she calls over to him at a break in the fray.

“Pardon?”

“I have a question, and I’d like to be able to look at you, uninterrupted, when I ask it. So, later.” He looks like he wants to press her further, but she juts her chin at the approaching figure behind him and he turns instead and wields his sword.

*

Emma asks. His lips are wrapping around a bottle of beer when she does and it looks to her like he may splutter a bit before he swallows and then rolls his eyes.

She frowns. “Not exactly the reaction I was hoping for.”

Killian puts the bottle on the bar and digs in his coat pocket. He pulls out a small box and offers it to her. She reaches for it, but then hesitates, and he gives a small, encouraging nod of his chin.

The ring inside is beautiful, and perfect, and everything she’s never known she wanted.

A small giggle bursts from her lips, because of course he’s one step ahead of her, waiting for her to catch up. She looks up to see him smiling widely.

“Is that a better one, love?”

She leans over and whispers against his lips, “Much.”

*

When the day comes, there is much that she wants to commit to memory, to pull back out when she needs something to remind how good she has it. But it is the moment with her mom, right before the ceremony, that she wants to hold to most.

They are standing in front of a mirror, Emma again in white with a crown of flowers weaved into her hair. She reaches to her shoulder, where her mother’s hand rests, and covers it with her own. It’s a moment of peace. A moment between mother and daughter that isn’t stolen from them before they can reach it. She wants to say something, but doesn’t know if there are words to express what she’s feeling.

Snow squeezes her hand and whispers, “I know.” She offers a smile to Emma’s reflection. “Now let’s go before something interrupts before we get to the good part.”

Emma takes a breath and offers her a small smile in return. “I think we are already there, mom.”


End file.
